Nepenthe • Something that can make you forget grief or suffering.
Never feeling like they belonged was a feeling that Lissa Dragomir lived with, even with her family and life long best friend, although they aided in that feeling not being so strong...
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Diana spotted her niece long before Kate noticed her. From across the snow covered courtyard, half-hidden in the shadows, Diana lingered. Kate was walking beside Janine Hathaway, her posture attentive, her eyes fixed on the older Guardian. The faint bob of Kate's head showed she was listening, absorbing every word. Diana couldn't hear them at first—too far away—but even in silence, she recognized the rhythm of Janine's speech: clipped, purposeful, efficient. Janine wasn't lecturing, she was teaching.
It struck Diana as odd. Janine Hathaway didn't waste her time on many students. But there she was, demonstrating quick, precise movements with her stake, sharp and fluid, ending with an unmistakable kill strike. Kate mirrored the motion, her own arms tensing as she repeated what she'd been shown. She was focused, even reverent.
Curiosity finally pulled Diana forward. She padded closer, soft-footed in the snow and quiet as a shadow, until the women's voices reached her.
"Sometimes the simplest strike is the most effective," Janine said, finishing with a neat downward thrust. "Complication will only get you killed. But... you already know that, don't you?"
Kate's lips curved into the faintest smile, but her voice was steady, stripped of bravado. "Yes. When I killed Natalie..."
The name hung in the air for a breath, but Kate didn't falter. "She had me at a disadvantage. I was injured, barely standing, but I knew hesitation would mean death, everyone had been telling me that since I arrived at the Academy. So I used what I had—my aunt's stake, my anger, the element of surprise. I staked her through the back, through her ribs, and pressed her into the wall until I knew her heart was pierced."
Janine's eyes sharpened, the faintest flicker of respect showing through her normally impassive mask. She gave a single, approving nod. "Resourceful. Most Guardians twice your age wouldn't have had the composure to finish it."
Diana felt her throat tighten. Kate said it so calmly, almost matter-of-factly, but she knew the truth: it wasn't calm. It was pain buried deep, locked down to keep moving forward. A young woman who had stared at Death and survived—but not unscarred.
For a long moment, Diana stayed silent, content to simply watch. Janine correcting Kate's stance, Kate adjusting despite her countless classes with Dimitri, Janine's low voice pointing out weaknesses, Kate nodding with quiet determination. The scene was unexpected, surreal almost: Kate, who had already lived through more than most Guardians, still humbling herself to learn. And Janine—Rose's mother, Abe's lover, Diana's competition—offering her the knowledge she had once refused to share.
Finally, Diana stepped out of the shadows.
"Well," she drawled, folding her arms as she approached. "If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd stumbled on a masterclass."
